


The Leprechaun's Charms

by taiyakisoba



Category: Original Work
Genre: Accents, Comedy, F/M, Leprechaun Romance, Monstergirl, POV First Person, St. Patrick's Day, big boobs, redhead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taiyakisoba/pseuds/taiyakisoba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young man, harassed by a leprechaun after offending the fairy-folk of Ireland, discovers his tormentor's secret... with sexy results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Leprechaun's Charms

**Author's Note:**

> A frivolous one-shot I wrote hoping to publish on St. Patrick's Day, but which ended up taking far longer to edit than I expected. Although I am a quarter-Irish, I wish to apologise in advance for the leprechaun's terrible Irish accent. Enjoy!

As Erin’s lips slid down over my length I gasped and lay back on the couch. Relief suffused me: the only sound apart from her wet murmuring and my groaning was the distant noise of traffic. There was no hint at all of that hideous fluting which had dogged me for so long.

The curse had finally been lifted!

A few drinks after work had led from one thing to another and I’d finally got Erin to come back to my apartment for a coffee.

I’d spent the entire evening in tormented horniness at all her teasing. After starting this new job, I’d been approached by several of my female colleagues, but fear of the curse made me rebuff them all. Since I didn’t give off any gay vibes, word got around I was some sort of religious type who was saving himself for marriage, so of course the older women I worked with made it a competition to try and break me. 

I’d finally succumbed to temptation and let Erin, my manager, ‘seduce’ me, if pushing her boobs in my face could really be called seduction. It was three weeks since I’d returned from Ireland and there’d been no sign of the curse during all that time, so I decided either the curse was localised to that country or I was finally been shown mercy after so many months of suffering. 

As Erin really got to work on me I felt a sudden attack of paranoia and glanced about the room. No, the curse must really have been lifted. It always appeared well before anything like this happened. 

“Oh god, you’re so hard,” Erin gasped. I pulled her off and she giggled with schoolgirlish delight as I turned her onto her tummy, lifted the hem of her skirt up, pulled her pants down and covered her curvy pale butt with hungry kisses. I let my hand slip up inside her blouse over her tummy and to her hanging boobs and teased her hardening nipples between my fingers.

She moaned and wriggled and I held onto her. I knew I should take things slow - it’d been months since I’d had any kind of sexual release - but when Erin began to push her butt up at me, I decided there was no point wasting any more time and mounted her.

I slid into her sticky heat, making her gasp and myself tremble at this long hungered-for sensation. I ran my hands along her ribs and down her smooth stomach as I started fucking her in earnest. I paced myself, but even holding back I was soon eliciting frenzied gasps from her that echoed my own.

“Oh god, more!” she moaned, tossing her long dark hair.

It was then that I heard the tin flute start up.

No. No, no no. No, not now!

The thin notes of the unseen instrument capered through the air and after a cheeky and arrogant trilling it reached a crescendo before falling away.

And then I saw it, sitting on the kitchen bench on the other side of the room and watching me with cruel humour in its dark, glittering eyes. It took the flute from its lips and grinned.

The curse.

So it hadn’t been lifted. It had just been biding its time, waiting for me to be lulled into a false sense of security. 

‘The curse’, as I called it, was about three and a half feet tall and dressed all in green: moss green trousers with a gold buckle, a little green velvet vest with glittering buttons worn over a light green blouse trimmed in white lace, and last of all a hat, a tall conical hat of the same moss green as the trousers with a superfluous buckle on it as well for good measure. Dark eyes and an upturned nose set in a pale, pixyish face with a long red beard completed the picture. 

I’m sure you’ve seen this sort of thing before: on the sign of a plastic-paddy Irish pub or a St. Patrick’s Day Party flier or on the front of a cereal box.

Yes, I called it ‘the curse’, but anyone who didn’t know how evil it was would laugh and say it was ‘just a leprechaun’. 

With a wink, the leprechaun hopped onto its feet, brought the tin flute to its lips once more and began to play a rousing jig.

At the first sound of the flute my previously eager strokes had slowed, but now at the appearance of the creature and its spirited dancing I came to a complete standstill.

“What’s the matter?” asked Erin, looking at me over her shoulder. She pushed her hips back against me and groaned lustily, but it was no use. I rapidly lost hardness as all desire drained from me at the sound of that diabolical flute and the spirited and ridiculous dancing of its diminutive owner. 

Who doesn’t know what happened next? Erin, her pride wounded by my inability to get hard again, grabbed her handbag and stormed out, muttering about gay men in denial. I lay there with a terminal case of soft cock as the leprechaun finished its little jig and took the tin flute from its lips. It swept the hat from its head and bowed with an arrogant flourish.

You had to give it to the creature, it was a consummate showman. 

I stared at the thing balefully as I put my clothes back on, wincing at the frustration that wracked my body. 

“Ah, now that t’was a pretty lass,” said the leprechaun in its high, girlish voice. It sat down on the counter and kicked its legs back and forth, considering me with a malicious smile on its lips. “A pretty raven-haired beauty and no mistakin’.”

“Shut up,” I said. 

“Aye, t’was a dreadful thing to leave such a pretty one unsatisfied and pantin’ for more...”

I slumped back on the couch. “Just shut up.”

“Now, now,” said the leprechaun. “T’was no charm of mine that unmanned ye, but yer own subconscious guilt. Maybe next time ye’ll be more careful before ye offend the Fair Folk.”

The Fair Folk. It was talking about the fairy people of Ireland, the leprechaun’s taller and more antagonistic cousins.

“I apologised to them,” I muttered. “I had the tree replanted. What more do they want?”

The leprechaun shrugged its shoulders. “T’ see ye appropriately punished for yer arrogance I suppose.” It sighed. “T’were the height of foolishness to ignore the warnings of yer fellows.”

The leprechaun, much as I hated to admit it, was speaking the truth. I’d done just that. After travelling to Ireland to renovate the old farmstead my aunt had left me in her will, I decided to build a garage on the property to increase its rentability. An old, half-dead birch tree sat beside the house and I decided it had to go. But none of the builders and landscapers would do the job for me, claiming that it was a fairy tree and muttering about the dire curse that awaited any who messed with the ‘Fair Folk’.

Like an arrogant asshole I’d ignored all their warnings, thinking they were just having fun with the clueless foreigner. I cut the tree down myself and soon after the dire curse that everyone had warned me about fell upon me.

At first I thought it was a little person who had been put up to the job by the annoyed locals, but I quickly discovered that wasn’t the case. No-one except for me could see the leprechaun or hear its voice or the sound of its flute. I decided then I was either going crazy or someone was slipping hallucinogens into my drinks down the pub, but when my blood tests came back clear I quickly had to admit the leprechaun was real. After a while its presence stopped being strange and I even began to find its comical appearance and spirited capering somewhat funny, but I soon learned to hate it. For the leprechaun made it a point to appear every time I came close to having sex with someone. At first my laughter at its appearance would spoil the moment - what woman wants to hear a guy start chuckling while they’re standing there naked in front of them? But then I came to dread the sound of that flute and the little green creature playing it, and the merest hint of its appearance would strip all desire from me. 

I tried hypnotism and exorcism, but to no avail. I even planted a new tree and begged the ‘Fair Folk’ for forgiveness, but the leprechaun, with its saucy grin and infernal jigging, continued to appear at the most infuriating moments.

And so I sold the house for much less than it was worth and fled back home. I’d hoped that leaving Ireland would leave that infernal creature behind as well, but now I knew the curse was going to follow me wherever I went. 

I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyes and fought back a sob of despair. “How long do I have to suffer this punishment?” 

The leprechaun shrugged. “King Oberon bade me come and vex you, ‘tis all. He neglected to say fer how long.”

I groaned and shoved my hands between my legs. My blue balls had begun aching fiercely. 

The leprechaun’s eyes flickered downwards and its wide grin reappeared. “Well, til next time, laddie. Have yerself a good evenin’!”

It swept the ludicrously large hat from its head and leaped inside, whereupon leprechaun and hat and all disappearing in a cloud of golden sparkles.

\-------------------------

I drank half a bottle of Taliskers and slumped down into my bed either to sleep or die - I wasn’t picky, really. Dead drunk I was finally free from my overpowering sexual frustration enough to sleep.

As I slept, I dreamed. I had that dream with Christina Hendricks in it - you know the one, where you’re sitting at a desk with a glass of whiskey in your hand and a cigar in your mouth and she walks in in that dress then gets on her hands and knees and crawls under the desk and unzips your fly and starts blowing you? Yeah, that dream. As soon as her lips slid over my dick I bit through the cigar, spilled the whiskey all over the paperwork for the Whatever Account and started to cry at just how amazing it felt. I pushed the chair back, not wanting to miss a moment of watching her pleasure me as I so richly deserved. Her beautiful red hair was in the way, so I pushed it aside and saw that my dick was balls-deep in the leprechaun’s mouth. It glanced up at me and winked, then got back to work, its long beard wagging as its head bobbed up and down on my dick.

My eyes flew open. That fucking leprechaun! Even in my imagination I couldn’t escape it. I pulled my pants and underwear off and with a mixture of lust and rage began to beat my angry swollen erection. I was going to come this time or die trying, leprechaun be damned!

Pleasure poured through me like a hose of hot water had been attached to the top of my head. My stroking became feverish and I felt a long-prayed-for orgasm approaching.

Then that demonic tin flute started up. I pushed the sound out of my head and kept up my strokes. I’d be damned if I was going to let the leprechaun stop me this time!

In a shower of golden sparkles the leprechaun appeared at the foot of my bed, the flute at its lips, but its fluting died away when it glanced down and saw me furiously abusing myself. A look of panic flickered across its face and it started to play again. The tune was faster and more whimsical now, and the leprechaun began a particularly spirited jig, leaping into the air and clicking its little black buckled shoes together.

But there was no stopping me this time. If anything, after that bizarre dream, the leprechaun’s antics merely made me even more excited. I continued to stroke myself, leering at the little creature as I did so. The leprechaun began to sweat and its dancing grew even more feverish. 

I was close to the point of no return. Even the ludicrousness of furiously masturbating to a prancing leprechaun wasn’t enough to stop my stratospheric ascent into paradise I was experiencing. I groaned like a dying man, my hand a furious blur.

The leprechaun’s eyes went huge and its dancing became panicked and unrestrained. First its hat came flying off, revealing wavy red hair done up in a bun; then the buttons on its vest popped off like bullets and ricocheted across the room. Finally the white shirt behind the vest burst open and a cushion fell out, revealing a taut pale stomach and above it the lacy emerald-green cups of a very well-filled bra.

A bra?

I stared at the leprechaun’s chest. The little creature was stacked! But was this some kind of joke? Was I dealing not only with a leprechaun, but a transsexual leprechaun at that? The creature gasped and slapped its hands over its expansive cleavage, but in doing so overbalanced, fell forward and stepped on its long red beard. With a loud snap and a cry of pain the beard tore clear off and fell to the bed, curling up like a dead weasel.

A fake beard, held on with elastic!

The leprechaun followed close behind, falling face-forward onto the bed and onto those huge leprechaun boobs.

Shit. Without a beard, the true girlishness of the leprechaun’s face was revealed. With its little button nose sprinkled with freckles and its cherry-red lips opened in an O of shock, there was no mistaking it: the leprechaun was female, and a cute one at that!

I cried out in ecstasy and came so hard it felt like the back of my head blew out. A great arc of pent-up semen doused the leprechaun’s boobs and face with sticky white goo, making the little creature yelp in horror.

As I kept on coming I started laughing. An insane jumble of relief and pleasure and amusement at the ridiculousness of the situation left me panting and groaning and aching from laughter in equal measures. My hand was slick with semen but I continued to pump away, as all the while the leprechaun knelt on the bed, muttering and wiping at the semen spattered on her face and breasts.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, dragging my hand from my dick as the last crashing waves of pleasurable aftershock ebbed away. It was the hardest I’d come in my life. Dizzy and exhausted I surveyed the damage. The coverlet of the bed was irreversibly stained, and there was the little leprechaun at the base of it, still desperately trying to wipe the goo from her face.

I grabbed some tissues and wiped myself clean, then tossed the box to the little creature. She glared at me and pulled the busted halves of her blouse back together in a vain attempt to cover herself, but then she gave up on the idea, snatched a handful of tissues and began dabbing at her semen-stained bra.

“Augh!” she muttered. “Just look at the job ye’ve done to me favourite bra. There’s jib all o’er it!”

Still naked below the waist, I crawled over and retrieved the leprechaun’s fake beard. Dripping with semen, it was like a scene from a 70s gay porno and at the sight of the stupid thing I started laughing again. I tossed the beard aside and sat back on my haunches. 

“So you’re a girl leprechaun,” I said.

The leprechaun looked up from her ineffectual cleaning and rolled her eyes. “Aye. Yer as sharp as a beach ball, aren’t ye? What gave it away?”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing as female leprechauns.”

“Of course there is, ya great dope!” The leprechaun tossed the rolled up tissues away in disgust. “Where d’ye think babby leprechauns come from?”

“I guess you’ve got me there,” I said. I watched her go searching for her buttons and as she crawled to the edge of the bed and looked underneath it, I got a nice eyeful of her plump round butt in her ridiculous green trousers. How did I ever think she was male with those curvy hips and that bubble-butt? 

“Now where’ve those accursed things gone?”

Her butt wiggled back and forth as she searched and I soon felt the stirring of new lust between my legs. I started jerking my cock back to hardness while I watched her. It was a pretty rude thing to do, I guess, but the way I saw it, this she-leprechaun still owed me big for all the cockblocking she’d put me through over the past months. 

“Ah! Found one!” She turned to me, the little brass button in her hand in triumph, but her face fell as soon as she saw what I was doing. 

Her eyes narrowed. “What d’ye think yer doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I said, annoyed. “Even after coming like that I’m still worked up and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss the opportunity to come again after you’ve cursed me with blueballs for so long.”

My dick was quickly getting diamond hard again and the leprechaun stared at it. I guess to a little creature like her even a slightly-above-average human dick seemed pretty impressive. She lifted her eyes to mine and glared at me, but the disgust on her face quickly melted away to be replaced with a strangely apologetic look.

“Aye. ‘Tis true, the curse you’ve had t’ bear has been a heavy one.” She glanced about the room, then turned back to me and whispered, “But ye should know I bear no animus towards ye personal, like. It’s been on King Oberon’s orders.”

“Just following orders, huh?” I muttered, then grimaced as a jolt of pleasure speared up along my spine.

The leprechaun sighed. “Aye, ‘tis an empty excuse, ain’t it?” She sat back and fiddled with fitting the button back onto her vest but quickly gave up. She glanced up at me again. “Tis usually a man’s job bein’ a curse, but we’ve been a mite understaffed of late.”

“That so?” Incredibly, I was getting even harder, and all this despite the fact I was talking to a leprechaun about human resource issues in the fairy kingdom. “Well, I guess they’ll replace you with someone else now the jig is up.” 

The jig. Huh. Even my lame ass pun couldn’t distract me from my rising excitement.

“Might well be,” said the leprechaun. “But the Emerald Isle ‘tis many a league away and the Court of the King moves slow at best.” She looked back down between my legs. My erection was comically huge now, stretching arrogantly up into the air. A smirk settled upon the leprechaun’s face. “Ah, but I must say ye have a fine, solid shillelagh! ‘Tis a sad shame t’see it so forlorn.”

The leprechaun’s hungry eyes gave me a sudden attack of shyness and I covered myself with the green cushion she’d had stuffed up the front of her shirt. “What are you talking about?”

The leprechaun just grinned at me, stripped off her torn blouse and let out her hair. Her hair, which she’d so artfully hidden in her big green leprechaun hat, was a fiery waterfall of curly red-gold locks. Beautiful, and all the more startling hanging against the paleness of her now-bare skin.

She sat back on her haunches, reached behind her back to undo her bra and slipped it off, letting her huge boobs with their big pink areolas fall free. She grinned at my shocked expression and ran her fingers across the pale skin of her neck and down to the swellings of her breasts. The scattering of freckles there contrasted with her creamy white skin and made her complexion all the more charming.

Then the leprechaun got on all fours, her big breasts hanging free, and crawled up the bed to me. “Aye,” she said. “Ya spoke the truth when ye said I’ve been right cruel to ye. Let me make it up to ye.”

I frowned. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“No trick,” she said. “It’s been hard for me too, y’know, havin’ ta watch over ye all day and night long, separated from my kind. It’s been an age and a half since I’ve enjoyed the touch of a man and I’m right gummin’ for it.” She cupped her boobs and leered at me. “I saw ye staring at my boobs. D’ye find them pleasing?”

I nodded like a moron. 

She chuckled knowingly, then brought her fingers to her large pink nipples and began to flick at them. “Well, now ye know my secret, I suppose there’s no harm in us havin’ a flah.”

The leprechaun leaned forward, pulled the cushion from my crotch and took hold of my erection with both hands. The sight of the lewd little creature on all fours, so short and yet so curvaceous in the hips and bust, with my dick in her tiny hands made my head spin. She glanced up at me, a cheeky smile on her cherry-red lips, and with a saucy wink she dove her mouth down on my dick.

“Shit,” I gasped. The sensation was incredible, like delving deep into molten honey, and I thought I might come right there and then. But the leprechaun drew her lips slowly back up along the length, mindful of my overexcitement, until the slick head popped out from between her lips. 

“Delicious,” she murmured. “But don’t be comin’ too quickly, now. I’ll soon be needin’ that stalk o’ yers deep inside me.”

She stroked me up and down a few times then slid her lips back over the head. Her mouth was small, but she was a trooper, and she breathed through her little upturned nose as she slid her molten tongue around my sensitive glans.

I lay back, my head bursting with flashes of maddening pleasure. But I felt frustration rising as well. The leprechaun was having fun at my expense, I realised, teasing me mercilessly. But I let her get away with it for a while. I was enjoying the sight of her half-naked body, her large boobs swaying and her heart-shaped butt clad in emerald-green wiggling in the air.

Finally I sat forward on my knees and drew my hands down to her boobs, cupping them. I felt her lips tighten around my shaft and she stopped licking and started sliding me in and out of her throat. Each boob was big relative to her own size, but I easily contained them in each hand. Her nipples were stiff against my palms and I couldn’t resist taking them between my thumb and forefinger and giving them a tweak.

The leprechaun gasped and redoubled her sucking. I guess she enjoyed what I was doing. I drew my hands down along her surprisingly flat stomach and found the buckle of her trousers.

She slipped my cock from her mouth. “Hey, what’s yer game?”

“I just want to see that butt of yours,” I said as I pulled the buckle open and slowly slid the now-loose brogue down from around her hips. She was wearing matching green pants underneath and I hooked my thumbs around the waistband and pulled them down too, exposing the soft white globes of her charming rear end. With her short stature, it was far less of a reach than with a human girl, and I could almost cover the whole of her butt with one hand.

The leprechaun wiggled her hips, helping me as I pulled her trousers and underwear down off her legs. She kicked off her brogues and her trousers soon joined them on the floor when I flung them there as well, her sopping underwear still wrapped inside them. 

The leprechaun was wet and I wasted no time slipping a hand down beneath her legs. I encountered a nice soft patch of pubic hair there and beneath it the velvety softness of her sex, slick with excitement. 

She took my dick from her mouth. “Stop arsin’ about,” she murmured. “Can’t ye see I’m champin’ for it?”

I’d intended to tease her, but my head was so dizzy with delight from her spirited blowjob that I put all thoughts of revenge aside and set to work. I slid one finger in, and then another. She was tight, but there seemed enough space for my cock.

I took my fingers out and stuck them in my mouth. She tasted delicious, salty and spicy. My head reeled and I decided I needed to taste her more. I lifted her up bodily, my cock slipping out of her mouth, and she squealed and began kicking her legs about.

“Hey,” I said. “Settle down! I’m not going to hurt you. It’s my turn.” 

I lay back and swung her around so that she was lying on my chest and stomach, her butt facing me. She slipped my dick back in her mouth, but when I leaned forward to eat her out I found she was far too short to make it work. I grabbed her round the waist and pulled her down so that her legs were on either side of my head. I had to make do with a hand- rather than a blowjob now, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make to taste more of her delicious juices.

Her butt close up was even paler than the rest of her, creamy and white like panacotta. I pulled her down and slid my tongue over her, basting her sex with my saliva. She cried out and started to shiver. I paid close attention to her diamond-hard little button before slipping my tongue back into her delightfully sticky and savoury little box. She moaned and pushed her butt down on top of me, wanting more of my tongue, her ample thighs locking my head in a vice.

I brought her to the edge of climax but pulled away at the last moment. I figured she deserved it: ‘following orders’ or not, she’d enjoyed tormenting me and I was eager to give her a taste of her own medicine. But when she looked back at me over her shoulder, her little pixyish face wore such a hang-dog expression that I changed my mind. I rolled her off my chest onto her back on the bed and dove my face between her legs. With her fragrant pubic hair tickled my nose, my tongue soon had her squealing and moaning again.

“Ah! Go on outa that,” she cried, grabbing my hair and pulling my head away. I fell back on my elbows while she hopped onto her feet and threw her arms around my neck. “We haven’t even had a decent snog yet!”

She brought her rosebud lips against my mouth and her tiny pink tongue slipped inside. Her kisses were aggressive and I was soon gasping around her slick lips as she leaned against me and pushed me down onto my back. She was too small to straddle me properly and ended up lying on my chest, her toes barely reaching my knees. With her tongue delving in and out of my mouth, she squeezed my dick between her thick thighs. 

At last the leprechaun pulled away, her neck flushed pink, her red hair a dishevelled halo about her head.

“Ah, tis no use. I can’t stand it any longer!” She reached back and took hold of my dick and with a graceful little hop backwards she slid herself straight down onto me.

I’d been wondering if I’d be too big for her, but the fear proved groundless. She was slick and broiling inside her pot of gold and I groaned in erotic agony as I slid deep inside. She grinned down at me in triumph and began to bounce up and down on my hardness. There was nothing else to do but grip her around the hips and help her. 

“Ah! I knew ye’d be a fine ride,” she gasped as I drove myself deeper still into her. The spicy smell of her excitement grew thicker as her juices ran freely down my length to pool on the lower part of my belly. Fucking a leprechaun was very different to fucking a human woman: she was so short and light that I had no difficulty in lifting her almost clear off my dick with each thrust. As a result, each stroke back into her felt like the first, her exquisitely sticky insides engulfing my dick to the hilt. 

But soon I let her take control and slid my hands up along her smooth sides and onto those gorgeously heavy breasts of hers. I cupped them both and played with her large nipples as she ground herself against me in earnest. Her little button was hard against the base of my dick and I knew from the growing heat surrounding me that she was getting close. 

Then the leprechaun fell forward and lay on top of me on all fours, her hands against my chest, a more comfortable position for her to bounce even faster up and down on my cock. The angle of my penetration changed and incredibly I found myself bottoming out inside the horny little creature.

Her dark eyes stared into mine as she tossed her hair and bit her lip in concentration, her pale freckled cheeks now as pink as an apple. The sight was so utterly adorable I felt myself slipping over the edge as well. I groaned and clawed at the bed-sheet like I was possessed.

“Aye, that’s it,” she gasped, sweat matting her curly red locks. “That’s it!”

“I’m going to come,” I gasped. I lifted a hand to her face to caress her cheek and she nuzzled against it. Her dark eyes, hooded with excitement, fell upon mine

“Well come, then!” she panted. 

Her bouncing became feverish and there was no more holding back. With a growling cry I came, the back of my head exploding with pleasure as I spilled what felt like a fire-hose of boiling hot semen inside her.

The leprechaun’s mouth fell open and she cried out as well, slamming herself down so hard that I felt my back crack. She kept her pelvis glued to mine as I continued to spurt inside her. I pulled her down against me and she smothered her face into my chest and kissed and licked my sweat-slick skin.

Moaning, there seemed to be no end to my spasming inside her, the pleasure still mysteriously intense, and I wondered if I was ever going to stop coming. But at last I did and the insane delight wracking my body slowly ebbed away.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, my hands slipping over the leprechaun’s back as she shivered with the aftershocks of her own climax. I was going to make some joke like ‘Once you go craic, you never go back’, but luckily the words refused to come. Instead I just crushed the still-panting leprechaun against me. Her eyes were closed and after while my dick grew soft and slipped out of her, along with an overflowing mixture of my semen and her juices. She gasped and muttered in disappointment, but now free of me she squirmed up higher so that she could nuzzle her face into the crook of my neck. With her diminutive size, she was just like a big soft toy and I cuddled her, one hand slipping down to rub that amazing little bubble-butt of hers. Her thighs were slick with sweat and sticky with our juices and I knew I should probably get up and find us some tissues to clean us with, but I was struck with such incredible lethargy that was unable to move.

After an eternity of wallowing in delicious mutual exhaustion, the little leprechaun stirred and I opened my eyes. She was staring straight into them, her black eyes glowing with warmth and mischief. 

“Ah! Ye were a fine ride, cub. It’s been many a year since I last enjoyed the touch of a human.” I felt her prod at my exhausted penis with a toe. “Aye, you’re nicely equipped and no mistaking.”

“So your men are hung like leprechauns, is that what you’re saying?” I chuckled at my almost-joke. 

The leprechaun snorted and pushed her face back into my chest. “Ah, away with yer blarney.” 

We lay there together in silence. Usually I can’t stand it for long if a girl lies on top of me after sex, but the little leprechaun was no burden at all and I enjoyed the weight of her on my chest and stomach. Eventually, though, I broke the silence.

“I just realised something,” I said.

“Ah, here it comes,” she murmured.

“No,” I said. “I’m just wondering what your name is.”

“My name?” She opened her eyes and smiled across at me. “Well, if it’s my name ye want to be knowing, then call me Cait.”

“Cait,” I repeated. “Cait.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you say it.”

I ignored her. “Kiss me, Cait.”

Her eyes went wide and she glared at me, but the grin that quickly slipped onto her lips made a mockery of it. She closed her eyes and brought her lips to mine. Her hot little tongue, salty with our shared exertion, slipped into my mouth and for a long, leisurely time we kissed, or ‘snogged’, as she called it. We were still kissing when she suddenly went slack and her tongue slipped out of my mouth.

Just like a little kid might, she’d fallen asleep, and I wasn’t far behind her.

\------------------------

I woke from a confused, erotic dream to find that Cait was already awake, toying with my rapidly hardening dick and flicking at the head with her little pink tongue.

“Ah! Yer awake finally.” She turned her attention back to my dick and drew her mouth over the head, making me groan. I was still sensitive from my previous orgasm, but incredibly I soon got hard again.

“Ye seem ready,” she murmured. After giving the shaft a few experimental strokes, she straddled me and was about to slip her already dripping sex down onto my erection when I grabbed hold of her and lifted her off me bodily.

“Hey!” she cried. “What’s yer game?”

“My turn,” I said, throwing her onto the bed and pulling her hips back so that she was on her hands and knees. I parted her cheeks and buried my face into her butt, licking at the tiny pink hole. She cried out in shock and delight and she wiggled and gasped as I squirmed my tongue deep inside her. She smelled and tasted delicious and my dick became even harder without any help from my hands.

I pulled away and quickly mounted her from behind. There was barely any resistance when I slid into her and I was soon pumping in and out with a frenzied rhythm, eliciting excited and inarticulate cries from her slackly open mouth. I leaned over her, completely overshadowing her smaller body, and panted as I thrust my hips madly, her soft butt slapping over and over against my abdomen. 

This time there was no teasing, no holding back. I fucked the little leprechaun with angry, incessant thrusts and she met every one of them. In no time at all I cried out and came inside her a second time, continuing to fuck her in a daze of pleasure as my semen basted the walls of her womb. Cait pushed back, squeezing her butt against me and wiggling her hips, as if seeking to squeeze every last bit of my semen from me, and soon her panting became a long, wailing cry like a banshee as she came as well.

I collapsed on top of her, smothering her with my larger body, but when she squealed out in alarm I rolled onto my back. Straightaway she leaped on top of me, threw her arms around my neck and attacked my face with a barrage of hot, angry kisses.

We lay together on the bed. After a while Cait sat up. She rubbed her belly and made a grab for some tissues.

“Phew,” she murmured. “Ye filled me to overflowin’.”

I chuckled, but then something occurred to me and my face fell. “Uh, Cait, I don’t suppose humans and leprechauns can...”

Cait laughed. “Ha! Ya big dope, fairy folk only get pregnan’ if we wish it, so set yer mind at peace.”

I lay back down and chuckled. My entire body was still tingling with pleasure. I reached out and ran my fingers along the delicious hourglass contour of her body.

Cait sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Going for a shower?” I asked. 

Cait shook her head, and with a click of her fingers and a flash of leprechaun gold her hair was set back in place and her skin was left pure and glowing as if she’d come fresh from bathing.

“I wish I could do magic,” I murmured.

“Aye,” she said. “Jus’ one of the perks of bein’ a little person.” Then she clicked her fingers again and her flute appeared above her, floating in a cloud of gold dust. She plucked it from the air and brought it to her lips and started to play. The sound was high and quick, but beneath it was a mournfulness that seems to lie behind all Irish music. I wondered back at how much I had hated the sound of that flute.

“Beautiful,” I said when she finished.

She glanced at me with her big green eyes and smiled. “Penneys. I’m miles better at playing that other kind o’ flute. But ye already know that.”

She stood up and with another click of her fingers her clothes flew up from where they’d been tossed onto the floor and span around her head.

“Are you going already?” I asked. I could hear how thick with disappointment my voice was but I didn’t care if she noticed it. 

Cait smiled at me. “Yer sweet, ye know that? But I’m long overdue to make a report to the King.” She clucked her teeth. “No rest fer the wicked, unfortunately.”

I watched her slip her clothes back on with their magical help. “Will you come back?” I asked.

Cait laughed. “’Course I will. After a fleagh like that, how couldn’t I?” She hopped over to me, now dressed in her trousers again, her stomach comically large with the cushion, and kissed me on the lips. “Just be listening out fer me flute. I’ll be back as soon as I can manage.”

As she went to go I grabbed her ridiculous conical hat off the ground and popped it on her head.

“You forgot something.” 

Cait turned back and looked up at me, her wide green eyes suddenly vulnerable. I leaned down and cupped her chin in my hands and gave her a longer, deeper kiss than that earlier disappointing peck on the lips. Her tongue quested into my mouth and she moaned as I stroked the softness of her neck behind her ears.

At last she broke away. “Now, I really have ta...”

“Wait!” I said. “Your beard!” It was lying in a little curled heap on the floor. I moved to scoop it up but Cait flicked her fingers and the little heap vanished, a new, fresh beard appearing on her chin.

She fixed her glistening eyes on mine. Even under her disguise they were achingly beautiful. “Now remember, mind. Listen out fer me flute.”

Then, with a deep sweep of her hat and a wink she did a little somersault and vanished.

I slumped back on the bed and watched the last vestiges of gold dust dissolve away

\---------------------

Cait was a leprechaun of her word. The next day she appeared to me while I was sitting watching TV. I’d almost convinced myself that I’d had some kind of weird hallucinogenic breakdown the previous day brought on by a severe case of blue-balls when I heard that gentle fluting. With an explosion of gold dust she appeared before me, and tearing off her hat and beard she threw herself into my lap and smothered me with a rain of desperate leprechaun kisses. We made love more slowly this time, and afterwards, as I lay with her cradled in my lap like an oversized teddybear on the couch, I smothered my face in her wild red hair and murmured the sort of stuff you do to a lover. 

“Do you really have to go?” I asked her once again.

She shook her head and frowned. “Yer really slow on the uptake, ain’t ya? I already explained the score.” But then her face softened and she snuggled against my chest. “Ah, but I wish things could be different.”

And just as she’d appeared, she left in a flash of golden dust and I was left counting the lonely hours until she would appear again.

My life continued as it had - well, apart from getting the cold shoulder from Erin, of course, and everyone at work thinking I was gay - but none of that worried me. All I cared about was seeing Cait again, and the fluting I had once so dreaded started to elicit a Pavlovian effect from me: as soon as I heard those gentle, mournful notes I’d get harder than iron.

One morning Cait appeared to me, but without the flute at her lips and her tiny fingers dancing across its length. Even before the gold dust had settled she’d thrown her arms around my legs and burst into tears.

Panic rose in my heart. “Cait, what’s wrong?” 

“'Tis King Oberon,” she sobbed.

“Oh shit,” I said. “He found out about us?”

“Nah,” she said. She tore her face away and looked up at me, her eyes red and swollen. “It’s the curse. Yer curse has been lifted!”

My heart sank and I staggered back onto the sofa. “Lifted? But why?”

“Ye’ve finished your penance,” she said. “The fairy folk have had their due, so my work here is done. I’ve been recalled to the court of the sidhe.”

My eyes began to sting. “But can’t you... can’t you just sneak away sometimes?” 

Cait shook her head and her tears began anew. “No chance,” she whispered. “There’s always some busybody or other watchin’ to check ye don’t put a foot wrong. Shifty types, pixies mostly, trying to climb the ladder by informin’ on others.”

“Oh Cait.” I went to hug her but she pushed me away.

“I can stay no longer,” she said. “Please forgive me.” She plunged her streaming eyes against her hands and sobbed. ‘Ah, I risked much to come here and say goodbye. It was worth it, mind, worth it to see yer sweet face one last time.” She wiped away the tears. “But I can’t go without a final taste of those sweet lips o’ yers.”

She grabbed me by the tie and pulled me down and kissed me, hard, despairing, desperate.

“Cait,” I whispered.

“Goodbye my love,” she murmured against my lips. Then she dissolved away into gold and I was left kissing the air.

\-------------------------

I didn’t go to work that day and lay slumped on the couch, waiting hopelessly for Cait to reappear. I waited long hours in the night, thinking she might come back, hoping she might have somehow found a way to escape the Court, praying I’d soon hear the sweet notes of her flute come dancing through the air and see that gorgeous flash of golden dust. 

But she didn’t return.

As the days and weeks passed, I grew more and more desolate. But the worst was when St. Patrick’s Day came around. All the emerald green and pictures of leprechauns and shamrocks pasted everywhere drove me into a self-imposed exile at home where I lay, curled up on my bed in despair. 

It was then I heard her flute. I was sure I was imagining things at first - I’d often heard it in those long hours trying to get to sleep - but this time it wasn’t a product of my tortured imagination. The fluting grew louder and I leaped to my feet and raced into the living room just in time to see a little shower of gold dust fade away.

I’d just missed her. I stumbled up to the table and found a postcard on it.

“Greetings from County Cork,” read the greeting underneath a picture of a quaint Irish coastal town.

I eagerly turned it over. There was a shamrock taped on the back and Cait had written a message in curly, childish writing there.

My dear sweet love,

I’m sorry I could not come to see you. Though it’s St. Patrick’s Day and all us wee folk are given the day off by King Oberon, our comings and goings are still closely watched by those busybodies I told you about. Sending this card was risky enough. My heart aches for you, but you must forget me. We must forget each other, else the sorrow become too much to bear.  
The shamrock will bring you good luck. Keep it close to your heart, as I keep all the memories of our short time together close to mine.

Cait.

Hot tears burning my eyes, I peeled the precious shamrock from the back of the card and put it in my pocket. 

Four hours later I’d submitted my resignation and was on the next flight to Ireland.

\-------------------------

After landing in Cork I rented a car and travelled along the wild and rocky coast through endless rolling green fields and town after charming town of little mossy stone buildings. I had no plan beyond trying to find the place pictured on the postcard and as I drove into the little coastal town of Clonakilty I wondered if I hadn’t taken complete leave of my senses.

I stopped the car at the side of the road and pushed my head against the steering wheel. So stupid, so utterly stupid. Why was I tormenting myself like this? 

As if in a mirror to my thoughts the storm that had been chasing me the past hour finally caught up with me and the heavens opened overhead. I lay there, listening to the rain drumming on the roof of the car, the thunder taking on the keening wail of the banshee in my imagination. 

Soon the flashes of lightning ceased. The rumbling grew further and further away as the storm drifted off towards the Atlantic. I sat there, my heart grown numb in my suffering, and then I started the car up again. 

I’d decided to go back home.

I made a U-turn and started to drive back north. The world after the rain was a gorgeous shimmering green, like I was passing through the inside of an emerald and I wound down the window. The air was fresh and sweet and the sun set everything sparkling as though bedewed with a million fairy baubles.

Then I turned a corner and the great arch of a rainbow appeared. It was the hugest rainbow I’d ever seen. So bright and clear was it that I thought I could almost reach out and touch it. 

A rainbow... 

My heart felt lighter. I decided to follow the rainbow, to chase it. I hadn’t done something so frivolous or whimsical since I’d been a kid, but somehow an innocent part of me had awakened at the sight. I pursued it, chasing the great hovering arch through tiny villages and winding lanes and amid low, rolling hills and farms and fields of lowing cattle.

I was passing through a dairy farm when I realised the rainbow had stopped moving away from me. Somehow I’d caught up with it. In the field to my right, not far from a copse of trees, I saw the end of it touching the earth. The air about it sparkled with every colour of the spectrum.

 

I stopped the car at the side of the road. I knew the rainbow was an optical illusion created by the scattering of light through a prism of water droplets, and yet...

I got out of the car and half-climbed, half-slid down the little causeway to the fence that surrounded the field. The fence was a barbwire one and after a few desperate moments climbing over it without puncturing my groin I finally cleared it and went jogging through the rain-moist grass beyond. Cows were startled by my appearance and trotted away, lowing in alarm.

My jog slowed to a trot. The rainbow stood there glowing, as though nailed to the earth. How was that even possible? As I got closer I caught sight of the glorious sparkling of golden dust.

I broke into a run. I was almost flying when I reached the end of the rainbow. Every part of me felt light, like I was floating, most of all my heart, so long weighed down by Cait’s loss.

And there it was, as clear as you might find in any picture book: a huge cauldron of black iron with a rounded lip, filled to overflowing with a great heap of glittering gold coins.

The fabled pot of gold.

A little green figure stepped out from behind it. But it wasn’t wearing brogues or buckled trousers or a vest or a comical cone-shaped hat: just a shimmering green robe, so pure it might have been woven from emerald. Bare-foot, its pale skin glowed with the light of fairyland and its wild red hair flowed free like soft, liquid fire.

She was beyond beautiful.

As Cait stepped forward her mouth widened into a grin, her dark eyes glistening like wet emerald.

“It took ye long enough,” she said, then burst into tears.

Laughing and crying in turns I caught the little leprechaun as she leaped up into my arms and twirling her round and round, I kissed her sweet, cherry-red mouth until her tears turned to joyful laughter.

The End


End file.
